Babies

Twins? Nope. But there is another baby on the way. It's not my own. It's my brother's!!! Congratulations to Mark and Lori on the coming addition to the Jones side of the family. Lori is due in early July.

Happy Birthday to Me...

I'm Thir-r-ty Three! Popcorn told me, "Happy 43rd Birthday, Mom!" I took a deep breath to recover then gave my sweet little man a hug. He also asked his daddy yesterday if I was going to be five on my next birthday. I love 4 1/2 years old. At 2 1/2, Sinatra is pretty adorable as well. There is just so much to enjoy.

In pregnancy, I'm 14 weeks along now and am feeling so much better. I didn't know how out of it I was until I emerged from it. First trimester, check.

I've felt the baby move a few times, but nothing that the kids could feel on the outside yet. I'll have an ultrasound in a few weeks to check on progress and hopefully, to discern the sex.

Side note: I have no camera. Sinatra sneaked into my purse and "played" with my camera. Now it doesn't work. Also, Sinatra got ahold of my old camera and while he was fiddling around Popcorn came in the room and told him something he didn't like. In true toddler form (the side of the toddler world that isn't cute) he threw it at his brother. Thankfully, it still takes pictures, but you can't review them or delete any--most inconvenient.

A Dress...a School

The wedding dress that I wore was borrowed from my mom's cousin. When I wore it, it was about 25 years old and had been worn by my aunt as well.

I got married in 1996 and can tell you that the Vera Wang dress of simple, smooth lines hit the main stream the following year. In '96 the "in" style was a fading spinoff of all that was beaded and poofy from the late 80's. I searched everywhere, but could not find anything close to the dress from that picture of my aunt's wedding. I remember asking a sales lady to bring me something without poofs, beads, or a gigantic satin butt bow. She came up with one dress--one! What a relief to find out that my mom's cousin still had the dress from 1960/70-something and that it would fit me.

After I was married we had the dress cleaned again and preserved in one of those special boxes with acid free paper and sent it back to my mom's cousin (sniff, wipe tear).

A few years later we found out that Sharon (mom's cousin) had a grandchild that needed a skirt for a bassinet. I'm sure it made a beautiful bassinet, but it still makes me cringe to think of it. Such a very typical Segraves move--like wiping out the starling nest along with the eggs.

Last night I checked my email and found a notice from Taylor University. Stay with me here. It will all tie together in a minute. In 1994 I applied to one university--Taylor, in Upland, Indiana. Nowhere else really appealed to me, so I put all my eggs in one basket. I was academically accepted, but the hitch was that there was no more room on the campus and would I consider going to their brand new extension campus in Fort Wayne, IN for a year and then transfer the following year?

I looked into it and found that the major I really wanted was only offered on the TUFW campus. TU offered only a minor. Also, TUFW would give me a $2000 scholarship. Done. Why in the world would I go to a school of only 500 students? That was smaller than my high school. Oh well, here I go.

Four years and a marriage later, Jon and I graduated from TUFW. Our degrees only state that we graduated from Taylor University--no mention of Fort Wayne. Good thing too. According to last night's notice, the Fort Wayne campus didn't support itself and is being cut from the apron strings. Anybody in the market for a small college in a slightly urban environment?

I feel like my dress is being cut up. I never thought I was very sentimental about that ramshackled campus (the physical defects of the campus were numerous), but I'm finding that I was just a bit more attached than I thought. I guess I'm more attached to the idea of getting the alumni magazine and finding out who had a baby or which professor retired. I want the home base. But as of May '09 it's up for bid. Another dress cut up.

A Break for the Pregnant Lady

Sorry I've been away so long. I haven't been very sick, but haven't had extra energy either. Just getting school done is my daily task. I swear that the house is being held together by chewing gum and filth. Jon has been cooking and taking care of kids when he gets home. He also puts our tribe to work cleaning their daily sprawl of toys and junk. He lets me sleep or just sit in a quiet room by myself. Good man. He brought me flowers the other day. Right now I love things that smell nice.

All that sounds a bit pitiful. I have had bad days and good days. My worst day was followed by my best last week. On my worst I laid around the house and slept, barely ate anything, could only speak in fragmented thoughts, and put Gem to work watching Sinatra. On my best, I mowed the lawn, tore out the dead garden, fixed the step on the treehouse, took the bush vine thing off the mailbox and washed it, played with the kids and cancelled school because it was a glorious day and I was feeling great.

All that to say, I took a break from blogging. In fact, I don't know that I am back yet. This entry might be a fluke. I'm 10 weeks along, so this shouldn't last much longer. I'm looking forward to feeling better all the time and getting back to blogging.

The Capital of Maryland

This year, Popcorn is in the kindergarten level class at our homeschool group. They learn all the same material as the older kids, but not as in depth.

We've been going over the states in the U.S. The older kids are learning capitals. The younger ones are concentrating on names of states. We also cover history, science, math, Latin, etc. etc.

When I review the material at home, Popcorn often interrupts and says, "Let me answer." I wasn't surprised when he tried to answer my question today.

"Shakespeare, what is the capital of Maryland?" I asked.
"I know, I know, Mom!" Popcorn said as he popped up from the floor where he was playing cars.
"Okay, Popcorn, you can answer. What is the capital of Maryland?"
"Butt whiff."
"What?!!!"
"Butt and whiff."

It seems that we have some confusion with a Latin conjunction and preposition from the last two weeks: Sed=but, apud=with.

Nothing Better Than Making Them Scream

Well, maybe making them cry.

My last post reminded me of one of my childhood torture techniques. This particularly good one was, "Animal".

Do you remember the muppet on the Muppet Show that played the drums? We had a puppet of him. Emily was seven years younger than I and was terrified of the thing. I routinely made her scream by popping it around a corner or making it stare at her and move its mouth open and closed. Sometimes I would add a monster noise for added drama, but it really wasn't necessary.

When I was eleven and she was about four she was still scared of the thing. One day, as a gesture of fained pity, I coaxed her near to "Animal" and showed her how he was only a puppet. I turned his face away and showed her the hole at his back. She tensely watched as a put my hand in and took it out time and again. Eventually she relaxed and even laughed a little. I turned him over and showed her his lifeless face. I stuck my hand in his mouth and picked him up by his beedy eyeballs. Now she was really convinced.

"Here, touch him." She timidly reached out and touched his fur quickly. "See, there's nothing to be afraid of. Now why don't you touch his nose?" She was more hesitant. She lifted her finger and slowly approached, then backed away, approached, then backed away (The bait was working). Finally, she slowly, deliberately, inched her finger close enough to feel his breath -- yes, he was alive now.

I'd like to interrupt this horror suspense story to tell you that I have mastered the art of perfect timing. This was accomplished early in my life and at the expense of many wet pants--none of which were mine.

Let's just say that Animal didn't hold back monster noises for this one. He even bit the unsuspecting victim and chased her to the stairs.

I might have gotten a very well deserved spanking, but I have to say that the satisfaction deftly outweighed the pain.

Poor Em. She is coming to visit this weekend. Despite this incident, and too many others to mention, she still pretends to like me.

Two Guests

This past week we had two guests: dog and lizard. The dog was okay, but the lizard was really fun. Gem loved to pick him up and stick him in the face of unsuspecting little brothers. She would laugh, they would scream. Must have gotten that one from her father.

Cumin, the dog, not the spice, was a good source of sniffing, barking and pooping (see how sensitive my pregnancy has made me). Spike, however, was a source of entertainment. Feeding time was a nature film in action. Throw cricket in, see cricket hide under paper towel, see cricket foolishly poke out the other side, see Spike pounce and swallow. Meal worms were not as fun to watch--they just didn't even have a chance. Other than that, Spike chased his reflection or just basked on his carefully heated rock.

Basking.
At the end of the week I have to say that it was fun to watch them go home.

"Fish and guests [bearded dragons and dogs] smell in three days."

Actually, the cricket habitat that tags along with the bearded dragon smells instantly.

The Best Comment

One day I took all my kids with me to mail a package. I usually go to the post office at the airport because there are fewer long lines there. This particular day was a happy one. The sun was shining, the weather warm, school done and children getting along. The kids even behaved nicely while in line (I expect it, but don't always get it).

We were headed out through the lobby when a woman entered and stated the standard, "I bet they keep you busy." I flashed a smile instead of a reply, then she stopped walking, smiled and added, "...and you don't mind it at all, do you?"

"It's a blessing and a joy. Sometimes it's hard, but mostly, it's great!" I loved being able to fill in the blank. It made my day. It happened over a year ago and I'm still talking about it.

Supersmell

I swear that I am part bloodhound. Did you know that, to a dog, the world stinks? We can all smell the compost bucket when it needs to be taken out, or the diaper pail in the same condition, but who ever thought that strawberry jelly would be so overpowering that a woman would refuse to make the standard pb&j lunch just to avoid it!

I remember when I was pregnant with Gem (1st). The hardest thing to do was drive, because I could smell the faintest hint of exhaust from the cars in front of me.

There are benefits to this condition: the toddler never gets diaper rash because I failed to catch the poopy diaper in time, I MUST bathe my children daily, my bathrooms get more attention, and the compost bucket must go out before it is full.

Some negatives are that, no matter how hard you try to escape it, people have gas. Another one is that I have to eat to survive. I would much rather drink water and avoid everything that has smell. Cooking is torture.

For this first trimester the only difference between a dog's nose and mine (well, besides the appearance) is that mine is connected to a creature that minds the stench.

New Blog Name

I would like to take submissions for a new title for my blog. By next May it will no longer be appropriate.

Yes, that's an announcement.
Yes, we know what causes that.
Yes, we wanted another one.